Reckless
by Lucrece01
Summary: "You don't belong with him, Granger. He can never love you. He can never worship you the way you deserve!" "Oh, and you can?" "I already do," he spoke and drew her into a crushing embrace, heedless of the dark gaze that rested on them. Marriage Law inspired.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

* * *

The room, with its low ceiling and damp walls, was dark and ominous. It bespoke the haunted soul of its occupant. A wide canopied bed lay in the corner. It was wooden and bare. A single worn out mattress rested limply on it. The bed sheet was grey and tattered. No welcoming blankets graced the foot of the bed. A single lamp perched on the bedside table shed light on the ghastly interior. The floor, barely scrubbed, creaked at the slightest movement. The walls were scarcely decorated, and they hid in shadows for want of light. Overall, the room gave one an impression of a prison cell: a cold, dark and forlorn prison cell.

Hermione shuddered and hugged herself as she surveyed the empty room. She was dressed in casual jeans and a sweat shirt, her unruly hair tied behind her. She clutched hard at the beaded bag in her hand and crossed the threshold. The floorboard squeaked under her weight as she took a step. She looked around once more and then, coming to a decision, chose to stay standing where she was. There was no place to sit or rest anyway. She scratched the skin on her arm, the word 'Mudblood' was etched quite deeply in it. She looked away from the red scar that was a perpetual reminder of the horrifying war.

The war.

Had it really ended?

She knew it hadn't.

It wouldn't end. Not for her.

Nor for them, either.

The survivors...

She sighed as her foot traced a circular pattern in the dusty floor. Any moment now, he would arrive. Her, she swallowed a small lump in her throat, husband. She had escaped from the gruelling realities of a brutal war only to be caught in this trap set up by the well meaning Ministry: the Marriage Law. All choices had been taken from them, the heroic survivors, and the Ministry had suddenly deemed it fit to inflict this banality on them. No one had any choice. Every one over the age of nineteen had to be married to Ministry appointed suitors. Well, at least her friends had temporary reprieve for another year, while she, already nineteen due to her excessive use of the Time Turner, was condemned. Oh well, one cannot win every battle. She looked at the diamond ring on her left hand. It was quite charming, she had to admit. The runes on the underside of the band were written in some olden language that she could not decipher. She would have access to the Hogwarts library soon and seek out a requisite book, the bookworm in her supplied slyly. She wiped away the moisture that began to gather in her eyes. It wasn't supposed to be this way.

She heard the soft sound of his footsteps as he entered the room. Her heart beat loudly in her chest. She felt the hair on her arms and legs stand up as he neared her. Would he hurt her, she wondered.

"Turn around."

She turned to face him. She had always feared him as a teacher. His very presence was foreboding and filled her with apprehension. But tonight was different. It wasn't a class room. No, it was supposed to be their… wedding night. A binding ceremony in the Wizarding world was never complete without consummation. Fuck, she had tried so hard to not let that thought cross her mind. It was done now. She bit her lip as she gazed at him. The dim light shrouded a part of his face and the rest of it was hidden by his long, dark hair. He was dressed in black, as always, and his face was unreadable. The sallow, pale skin made his appearance look eerie and phantom like. She was about a head shorter than him and could see the faint remnants of a scar on his neck. His thin lips were pressed shut and his obsidian eyes glittered as he looked at her.

"You are too young," he said as he brought up a hand to touch her cheek. Hermione shivered slightly and her eyes widened in shock. Perhaps her surprise registered in her face and she saw him withdraw immediately. In one quick billow, he turned his back to her and waved his wand, thereby extinguishing the lamp. They were shrouded in darkness now.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, are you uninitiated?" his silky voice reached her from some place to her right. It sounded far off and she wondered if he had sat down. Uninitiated? What did that mean…? She furrowed her brows in thought and then it hit her. He was probably enquiring about whether she was a… virgin. She gulped and felt cold sweat form in her palm. She was filled with dread. She could feel the noise of a strange wind whistle in her ears. Her heart beat escalated further and she wondered if she could stand on her legs any longer.

"I… I'm… that is, I don't…" she stuttered, her voice abysmally squeaky even to her own ears. She shut up after this first try. She really couldn't speak. She took in a deep breath and closed her eyes. She had meant to say that she was a virgin; it wasn't something she'd be able to hide anyway, but that she had tried to… _Oh, well. The chance was gone now._

The dark silence was so palpable that she could taste it on her tongue. Suddenly, she felt the gentle grip of a hand on her wrist and felt herself being pulled towards something. She flinched but did not resist. The backside of her knee hit the wooden bed and, unseeing still, she lost her balance and sat down on it to avoid falling onto the floor. That would have been worse.

She felt the soft rustle of a fabric near her and caught a strange scent. She bit her lip and tried to pierce the darkness with her wearied eyes but to no avail.

"Take off your clothes, Miss Granger, and lie down on your stomach." She heard his deep baritone voice command her. Her hands shook as she tried to open the front buttons on her sweatshirt but she remained resolute. If she had to go through it, she would do this bravely. She took in another breath and tugged her arms out of her sleeves. She held the cloth in one hand and the beaded bag in another as she felt the chill in the room prick her skin. Her silk camisole was covered in cold sweat and she shuddered once more as she took it off. The unzipping of her pants created the loudest noise she had ever heard in her life. She felt jittery and her stomach rolled inwards as she eased out of her jeans. She let it fall to the ground and felt the hard bed with her hands. Having located the spread, she bent her knees and lay face down on the bed and waited.

For whatever was to come next.

The pillow was thin and she could smell the dust lodged in it. She waited. Each second stretched to eternity and she felt a clock tick the milliseconds in her head. She felt quite stupid actually, lying as she did there, and she wondered if she should make a sound to… tell him what? Her cheeks burned in humiliation and she was thankful for the darkness.

She almost jumped in surprise when unfamiliar fingers touched her back. Sharp and unanticipated tingles ran up her spine as her shoulder blades drew closer together. She hadn't heard him move at all. She closed her eyes and steeled herself. She felt his fingers work on her muscles and a soft whimper escaped her mouth. This time she heard him. The mattress squelched under his weight and she felt his proximity. She still had her arms wound around the pillow and felt a strange sensation cross her belly. She had let herself block most thoughts that ran through her mind up to this point to be able to get through the night. But this she hadn't expected. She buried her face in the pillow and bit back another moan as his deft fingers found each knot under her skin and unravelled them. He did not speak, no; he hadn't spoken more than a handful of words ever since she had found out that they were to be tied together.

Irrevocably.

She felt his palms trace the spread of her back and stop at the middle to undo the clasp of her brassiere. She felt them trail along the length of her spine and bit back another groan as her breasts tingled. Fuck, she was enjoying this. She had steeled herself to get through this night. A duty, she had called it, to console herself and ease her pain. But she hadn't expected to like it. No, she hadn't expected to feel… this. He moved to her legs, his thin fingers gently unravelling the stiffness in her calves and thighs. She clutched harder at the cushion this time. Her back still tingled from the erratic waves of a remembered touch.

She had never been with a man before. She had never had the time to. Ron was the only steady boyfriend she had had and they too had broken up over summer. A few quick fumbles in the driveway were the only shreds of intimacy she had been acquainted to in the past. This was new. This wasn't something she had felt before. Was it him? Her teacher whom she dreaded or was it her? Was she going insane? Why did she not feel hysterical? Why…?

And still his hands kept exploring her skin. She felt them brush her behind, momentarily, but they did not stop and travelled along her length and then back again. He eased forwards and she felt the bed bend a little more towards him, beckoning her slight figure to the depression that his weight had created. She could tell that he was reclined on one side now. She raised her head to try and see but the darkness was as ubiquitous as ever.

"Roll over."

Her throat constricted as she complied with his commanding voice and rolled over on her back. She let him take control and direct her because the alternative was too embarrassing. She still couldn't see anything.

She felt his warm breath travel over her curls as he took one in his fingers and caressed it. He touched her collar bone and his hands trailed gently down her mounds, passing without stopping down to her belly where they rested for a moment before beginning to trail small circles around her belly button, the circumference of which increased with each passing moment. She felt a sudden heat build up in her abdomen and her toes curled slightly. Was this natural?

She wondered at the lack of shame she felt. It was partially due to the lingering darkness around them, she thought, that she hadn't broken down in fear yet. But… These thoughts left the window of her mind as she felt his hands brush against a particularly sensitive spot on her neck.

"Oh…" she moaned and her back arched a bit upwards. She felt him remove the unclasped upper covering on her chest. Her breasts tingled once more and she felt them harden in anticipation. She felt incensed. What was wrong with her?

The soft, sensitive sides of her breasts felt the flaming pressure of his hands far more than they had ever felt the skin themselves. His palms brushed the sides softly, experimenting and she could feel the calluses on his hands. They were rough and nimble, she had expected that, but now that she felt them… The fire swirled in her chest and travelled down to her belly and any moment she felt like she would crack… break apart…

The back of her knuckles brushed the underside of one of her breasts and she shivered. She tried not to moan in pleasure but the sound escaped her nevertheless. She felt his palms tenderly trace and cup the fullness, but only for a few seconds before he let go of them them. Instead, his fingertips began to swirl over both the areolas of her nipples, never touching the aching centres, and leaving her in agony. Hermione felt the length of her legs spasm and she found it hard not to writhe under his ministrations.

"Ah…" an alien sound escaped her throat and she bit her lip in mortification. How would she face him in days to come, knowing as she did now, the inflaming touch of his fingers and not think of this dark pleasure? How would she face him the classroom… Oh…

She felt herself crack and felt like she was going to sob. Was this what desire felt like? If so, then she had never felt it before… A dam burst inside her body and she let a full throated moan escape her.

"More…"

"What?"

"More… Please…" she cried. She would go insane if the heat building within her wasn't sated soon.

His fingers took control but were still not violent - instead they simply increased their pressure. He rolled both of her nipples between his fingertips and she let out a tiny cry of conclusion. But still it wasn't enough and somehow he seemed to know it - his mouth placing a kiss under her chin, along the column of her neck and down again to the juncture where her neck met her shoulder…but this time his mouth opened and she felt the wet slickness of his tongue. He tasted one and then the other, once more taking his time and her hands somehow had latched onto his back, digging in piercingly as she clawed. She felt it as his teeth nicked down on one of her nipples. Not enough to be a vicious bite - but enough for her to feel it and that feeling shot straight to the centre between her thighs, making her hips rock up. Her eyes rolled in her head and she whimpered. Oh god - what was she doing? He merely grunted mutely.

What was happening to make her so wanton…

She felt his fingers skim down to where her damp knickers began and felt him remove them. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she realised that she was completely naked beneath her Professor- now her husband, but she pushed that thought away. In the frenzy of activity that had followed, his larger body had completely covered hers. Only now did she realise that he had removed his upper clothing as well. She trembled beneath him, in desire and insanity, and a another moan escaped her as she felt his chest collide against her naked breasts.

His hands slid down to run over the tops of her thighs, her knees and lower, then up to clasp around her hips, squeezing delicately, sensuously.

She shivered and squirmed beneath him.

Smoky laughter issued from above her as her hand reached for his pants but he drew back, his hand dancing up her soft inner thighs. She swallowed convulsively as his hand drew closer to her moist heat and then, at last, his touch was there and she felt as if she would explode. But not yet, he traced the silky inner folds and then one finger drove inside.

Her throat tore open with noise.

The finger withdrew then plunged in again and then again, picking up speed, and then there was a second, a third…stretching, filling, widening, sating…

Her trembling was out of control, she shook violently and then his thumb sought out and circled the nub where all the sensations had been flooding. He caressed it languidly.

Her hips jolted up and her entire body lit up like a Christmas tree as she felt an orgasm build within her. Her fingers had found his shoulders, her nails bit down deep as she responded to the thrust of his fingers, to the movement of her his hand against her and then, to her amazement, she felt something building in her again…

She crested a second time.

Her voice was sobbing over and over as the lights in her limbs grew brighter in force. And still he kept on with his fingers until she felt she would either explode for an impossible third time or die. Pleasure had enveloped her completely and she realized she wanted more…

She was too far gone to be afraid of the painful experience next. All she knew was what she wanted and she could dimly hear her voice asking for it. Oh god, begging…

She could feel him remove the rest of his clothing. They were both naked, as nature had intended them to be –

She felt him move a bit and suddenly, without warning, a blinding pain shot through her as he entered her. She cried out and a few tears escaped her eyelids. The pain abated, in a few seconds, and she quietened. She still felt desire and she still made wild noise, not remembering, forgetting…

He began to surge inside. He was so big, too much and pain was running right alongside ecstasy but they were so intermingled that she could only thrash wildly, her sounds no longer human. Once he was in her, he didn't move. Instead, he seemed to wait for her to adjust and what's more, drew her close…

He hugged her. His hand running smoothly over her hair - petting again and then his face was buried in the crook of her neck…was he nuzzling? Did he think she was someone else? His nose parted her hair; his mouth kissed the side of her neck. Her lips had an insane moment of jealousy and then he drew back stealthily to only enter again.

He moved again, just as sluggishly, his fingertips cradled around her hips and sinking in as he moved her along with him, as if teaching her the movements, the rhythm. She began to answer his thrusts, a pant escaping.

They squirmed against one another futilely; the pace agonizingly slow and she felt a steady pulse rise within her. Again, her throat was a full nest of noisy delight but what was different was that now, he was no longer silent.

And then, he kissed her. He invaded her mouth and she met his lips with a delighted noise of her own as she arched towards him, all manner of identity forgotten…

He broke the kiss, his lips against hers as he moaned and came. She followed suit, breath bathing his mouth as another tremor rocked her form. They both felt sparks sizzling through them, between them and then they were floating down to the mattresses…

She felt him draw her in his arms and hug her. Her drooping eyelids registered the darkness around them once more and she thought she heard him say something in his silky voice before she passed into the realm of sleep.

_"Lily…"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Hermione's eyes flew open, suddenly, and she found herself in unfamiliar surroundings. Her heart still beat loudly from the nightmare she had just experienced and she could feel the cold sweat on her face. Her hand went to her forehead, absently, and that was when she realised that she wasn't clothed under the blanket. Her eyes closed and she drew a long breath as she remembered where she was.

_Of course. _

_That did not happen. Last night did not take place, _she told herself again and again. _Everything will be fine. Just keep yourself calm._

"Sweet dreams?" a silky voice from a nearby chair enquired. She drew up the blanket further as she brought his pale face into focus.

_Her husband. _

Last night's images came swirling back to her and her cheeks burned in embarrassment at the wanton manner in which she had acted. She still couldn't believe that the events of the previous night had actually transpired. She felt sore and tired; she felt like something painful was lodged in her lower abdomen and she could see that something was wrong with her head as well. _So much for the first experience_, she thought wryly. _With your professor_, the guilty part in her mind supplied.

She could feel his gaze on her as he sat in the uncomfortable chair but she did not dare look up. She could still remember the feel of his hands on her skin, the manner in which his fingers had caused her to explode with desire and passion, the heat of his form as he had plunged into her and had made her reach the crescendo of craving and had made her fall apart.

_Over and over again._

But then she remembered something else.

_A tiny something that nagged her at the back of her mind… _

She remembered his last words before she had fallen asleep.

'_Lily…'_

_Oh._ She remembered what Harry had told her about his… love for Harry's mother. _Of course, he must have imagined she was someone else, her…_

She felt a tiny sting of something in her chest.

Something sharp pricked the inside of her throat and she waited for him to look away, leave, do _anything_ other than just stare at her as she sat and gaped stupidly into the space, avoiding eye contact with him. He was her _teacher_. He was her professor whom she had disliked for a very long time. What had happened between them the day before, though necessary and sanctioned by law, was the worst kind of wrong. It had effectively shattered the sanctity of the relationship between a student and a teacher in her mind. It was… sacrilege. And she was the culprit too… She felt a bit dejected at that notion. _Why wasn't he just leaving the room already?_

He seemed to have grown tired of her non responsive behaviour, for presently, he sighed and said,

"Just… get dressed and come downstairs."

She heard his retreating footsteps and breathed out in relief. She threw her head back into the pillow and stared at the ceiling, now dimly lit by the invasive daylight, and thought about her situation. Two weeks ago, she hadn't even known about the Ministry appointed suitor to whom she would be tied. She had been horrified when she had first come to know of his name. It had taken two long days of crying and throwing tantrums to make her calm down and see reason. _Fuck reason,_ she thought. But once she had resigned herself to the situation, she had put on a brave face for everyone and carried through with the travesty that this marriage was. And now, she sat in his bed, his wife of one day and wondered how she could best manage to not see him. _Like ever_.

She looked at the diamond ring on her hand and it felt like an immensely heavy stone to her. The reality of being married hadn't yet settled in her mind and she knew that some sort of breakdown was inevitable in near future. She looked at the clock that lay by the nightstand and sighed_. Better not keep him waiting or who knows what he might turn into_. He had been civil so far but it was always wiser to not cross any lines with _Professor _Snape. _It wasn't as if she wanted to be naked in his bed anyway_, she grimaced.

She located her clothes near the bed and put them on quickly, noticing a patch of dried blood that rested on her thighs and the bed sheets. She also had some difficulty walking, the area between her legs felt strangely stiff and it hurt when she touched it. She decided to look closely at it later when she had a chance to take a bath. She grabbed her beaded bag and walked out of the doorway.

She found him seated in one of the spindly chairs in the small drawing room. He looked as foreboding as ever, his face drawn in a dark scowl and his brows furrowed in deep thought. He did not seem to notice when she entered and she had to cough to announce her presence. He looked up at the sound.

"Sit," he said, motioning her towards one of the rickety chairs. In her haste to obey, she stumbled over an odd looking object lying in the door way and managed to _just_ hold her balance. She caught him sneering at her clumsy entrance and she was most certainly not pleased. When she was adequately seated in the smallish chair, he put aside the paper he had been reading and looked straight into her eyes.

"I have not had a chance to speak with you regarding the terms of this… _marriage_ that we have been forced into. Now seems the most opportune time, before we set off for Hogwarts next week, for I shall not have leisure at my hands once we are there."

She nodded mutely and averted her eyes, not wanting to discuss the _damned thing_. So far, she had managed to stifle panic and despair by blocking most of her thoughts related to it. That was what she did most of the times. It was only right. But he seemed to want to _discuss _things. She supposed he had rules and such, for her of course, so that his life would remain unchanged. She sighed inwardly and prepared herself for… well, _the lecture?_

"I don't want children, Miss Granger," he said after a long scrutiny under which she silently squirmed and cursed him in her mind for being so intimidating. His words caused her to look up in surprise. _Surely, more population was the one reason why she sat here as this man's wife._

"I will give you a potion, of my own design, that will suppress ovulation. It is not a foolproof solution but it will work ninety percent of the time." He looked into her eyes; she noticed the rich black colour that grew lighter around the edges, and waited for her answer.

"They will know of it." She looked away, not wanting to give voice to the fear building within her. It wasn't like she wanted to be a mother at this young age but she _had_ wanted children someday.

_With someone else. _

_In a real marriage. _

_No, don't you dare think about it here, Hermione._

"No, they won't."

She shrugged her shoulders, not letting herself think in his presence for that would be a dangerous thing to do and might just cause her to cry which she certainly did not want. She was brave. She had survived the war. She could do this.

"I cannot love you, Miss Granger, as I am sure you must have inferred from my past and my utterance last night. I do not regret it and you would do well to remember that."

Hermione rolled her eyes in her head. _Fuck love_. She didn't love him either and as things stood, she wasn't sure she wanted to love him. She suppressed the images of tingling pleasure that she had experienced the previous night.

_It wasn't him_, she thought. _It wasn't her he had thought of_, she thought.

"I see," she said, relieved somewhere that she wouldn't be expected to play a loving wife_. She wasn't going to anyway. _

"I would like for you to keep your personal space and not encroach upon mine. For all intents and purposes, this marriage changes little for either of us."

"Fine," she replied, her voice came out harsher than she had intended but she really couldn't sit here anymore. The small room seemed to shrink the longer sat there and she wanted to be done with it already. She wanted to go away and maybe have a good cry. For… for _things…_

"You are intent upon attending the eighth year classes this year then?" he asked after a protracted silence in which Hermione contemplated the murky interior of the room.

"Yes."

He seemed to frown and closed his eyes, the harsh lines of his face grew prominent and a dark look crossed his features as he nodded.

"You may purchase the requisite stationery and other items for the year. My account at the bank would supply you with your needs."

Hermione's independent spirit flared a bit at this as she looked up, her back straightened and her face set in a determined expression.

"I can buy my own things," she shot out, a little forcefully but was taken aback at the dark glare he shot her.

"You should learn the meaning of respect, Miss Granger. I am not one of your foolish friends and I shall not entertain infantile tantrums from your side," he said, his voice barely above whisper but she felt a strange shudder of apprehension run down her spine. "You may leave."

She got up from the chair mechanically, bit down the retort she had ready on the tip of her tongue and walked out of the room with her head held high. He may have intimidated her but she wasn't going to let him see it_._

_ Now, where the hell was a bloody bathroom in that beaten down old shack of a house?_

* * *

Afternoon found Hermione searching desperately for the motley group of friends and acquaintances in the crowded street of the Diagon Alley. They were supposed to be there, Harry had told her so. She wrapped her finger around one of her curls and pulled at it as she looked around. It had been a year since the war had ended.

_A year…_

It had taken them a year to restore Hogwarts to its past glory and when they had announced an extra year course for the students, Hermione had been instantly seized of the idea and had signed up for it. Most of her friends had. They were trying to restore normalcy in the shattered society and education was one of the best options they had. It would help them heal. Perhaps it would help them regain the confidence they had lost in humanity… She wondered where they were as she drew out a cigarette from her beaded bag and lit it. It was a habit she had acquired to cope with the aftermath of the battle. The soft ensnare of nicotine did help her stifle quite a lot of things. Its was an addiction she couldn't quite shirk offno matter how much her conscience pricked her.

"Hermione! Over here!" She saw Harry wave at her from the other side of the road and an inadvertent smile crossed her lips. He was accompanied by Ron and Ginny. He had changed much during the one year following the war. She crushed the burning stick under her foot in haste and went to join them.

Harry and Ginny stood holding hands, looking the charming picture of a couple much in love. Ron seemed to shift a bit on his feet, smiling rather faintly at her as she reached the trio. She grinned at each of them and gave them separate hugs before they set off towards a local eatery down the street. The little food corner they entered was a new establishment and boasted of many types of Muggle cuisine. They chose a table in a corner, away from prying eyes, and settled themselves comfortably before the waitress came to take their orders.

An uncomfortable silence prevailed between them as they waited for their food.

"Hermione… I… Are you ok?" Harry asked after a while, not willing to meet her eyes. She supposed he felt guilty that he could not save her from the…_ marriage,_ but there really was nothing that he could have done. He did have a hero complex though and it was quite probable that he felt that he was responsible in some way. She did not want to worry him. He had seen too much. He deserved to be happy.

"Yeah," she answered and it wasn't a lie. She was… _fine_. She had spent the last two days avoiding Snape and it had worked so far. He didn't seem very keen on spending time with her either and that suited her_ just fine._ She supposed that in a forced marriage such as theirs, this was the best one could hope for.

_A peaceful absence._

It was the best she would get.

Ron shifted in his seat and Ginny looked at her suspiciously but Hermione had become a very convincing actress over the past one year and she plastered the most innocent smile on her face as she looked at each of her three friends.

"Right," Harry mumbled. "It's just that we've been worried about you. You didn't answer our letters…"

"Yes well, I've been busy what with shifting to a new place and deciding on the subjects to opt for in the current year…" she muttered. "What have you lot chosen?"

Ginny's eyebrow rose at her answer but Ron looked convinced. Harry seemed to ease a little in his seat as well.

"Mainly the ones required for the Auror training," Harry replied. "Ginny's taking Care of Magical Creatures this year so I thought I'd take it as well… Hagrid wouldn't mind…"

Hermione nodded ponderously and sipped her coffee before her eyes came to rest on Ron.

"I always go for whatever Harry chooses." He shrugged his shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant but Hermione could discern certain sadness in his eyes.

_It wouldn't have worked,_ she told herself._ We broke up before this mess happened…_ _It would never have worked for us…_

"He's not too bad, is he? I mean… he doesn't…" Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth as her stared at the diamond ring on her hand.

"Well, I wouldn't know for sure now, would I? I have been avoiding him for the past three days and I think the strategy is working," she said humorously. Nobody seemed to find it funny so she sighed and added, "it's fine, you guys. We are just two people who share a living space so the marriage doesn't change anything for me. _Really._"

"I suppose," Harry said and shared a glance with Ginny. Hermione noticed them exchange a significant look but refrained from commenting on it. Ron coughed after a while and drew the table's attention towards himself.

"We… We should get going. It's a long list," he spoke and drew out a crumpled parchment from his pocket.

"Yeah. I think we should," she said and got up, leading the way out after paying her share of the bill. They did have a long day's shopping before them. She would have to pretend for her friends. She would.

Everything had changed.

_Irreversibly._

* * *

She placed the large parcels of her school supplies on the dingy table in her room and slumped into the small armchair. She stared into the empty space for a long while before she put her face in her hands and pulled at her unruly curls. The room was filled with her nervous, uncontrollable sobs and she made no effort to tether them to her heavy heart. No, she had to let it out before tomorrow morning when she would return for the school year. It wasn't just the desperation of her situation that caused her to break down, no; it was what Harry had said to her during their shopping…

_She picked up a canary, or something that looked like one because this one was blue. It seemed friendly and appeared to like her, nuzzling against her finger when she poked it inside. She smiled a little at the magical creature and picked it up. She would buy it._

_"Hermione." Harry's voice just behind her startled her and she almost let go of the cage._

_"What?"_

_"I… you'll let us know, won't you? If anything gets out of hand or if there is a problem, even at Hogwarts?" Harry's emerald eyes held such compassion and mourning for herself that she could only nod mutely, not daring to meet his eyes._

_"Right then. I'll just…" He hesitated and gave her a pat on the shoulder before moving over to Ginny. Ron was blissfully engaged in the antics of a pair of squirrels by the window._

_Unseen by anyone else, she turned and let out a small tear as she replaced the canary or whatever it was in its original place. _

All things considered, she supposed she was better off alone perhaps.

It was how it should have been.

She had to go back to school the next day and face…_ others._

People.

She looked around and observed the faded wallpaper as silent tears ran down her eyes. Her husband was in the living room. There had been a light on when she had entered and hence she had avoided going there, taking the stairs that led to a small, squalid room which was to be hers while there.

Tomorrow.

She'd face them tomorrow.

She was brave.

She could do this.

* * *

Reviews are appreciated, of course.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Hermione didn't sleep the entire night. She couldn't bring herself to lie down in the darkness. There were many worries weighing down on her mind alongside the fact that it had rained in the evening and the ceiling had leaked. She could have cast a charm to keep it out but she did nothing. She sat in her small chair, feet drawn up to her chest and her chin resting on her arms as she watched the tiny drops of rain get soaked into her bed sheets. She hadn't felt like intervening.

The confused muck of worry and despair that was her mind, alongside the fact that she would most certainly be the only one at school who was subject to the heinous Decree, was enough to keep anyone awake. The swirling mess of thoughts had chased one thread to the next until soft daylight had crept through the boarded up window.

She rubbed her reddened eyes and left the chair, tied her hair behind her and went to freshen up herself. There was a common bathroom on the first floor that housed two rooms and a small store room. She crept out silently, not making any sound in case he were awake and closed the bathroom door behind her. She emerged from the dingy bathroom a while later and went straight to her room to pack her stuff in the trunk.

It took her about half an hour in which she threw things into the large vessel without ceremony and closed the lid with some force. _It wouldn't matter in the end, I would have to take it all out when I reach Hogwarts,_ she reasoned with the meticulous part of her brain when it revolted at her actions. She sat down on the trunk and unfolded the dress she had planned to wear that day. She shrugged out of her sweatshirt and her pants, throwing them onto the untouched bed when she heard it.

A firm knock sounded on the door and she looked up. It was _him,_ of course. The door opened before she could respond and her lips parted in shock. _Surely, it was rather rude to just barge in like that._ He stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the grey background, dressed in black as always, as he observed her sitting on the top of her trunk, barely dressed, with her legs flung out in a careless manner. Modesty caused her cheeks to burn red as she hastily grabbed the sheets off the bed and covered herself.

"I think it would be nice if you waited for an answer before entering," she spoke frigidly, not meeting his eyes as she drew the cloth further up her chest. His eyes travelled from her face to her toes and he gave her a curt nod with an expression of thinly veiled impatience on his face.

A few moments passed in which neither of them spoke.

"This is the potion I spoke to you about. A single dose before the… encounter should be enough." He placed a crimson coloured bottle on the table before her and curled his lip as he looked at her once more.

She felt the discomfort slide up her toes and reach her belly.

"Fine," she answered as she looked at the tiny vial of potion and wondered what it could be made of.

_Perhaps she could employ some reverse engineering to figure out its ingredients and the method involved in making it… _

_A personal project…_

_Hmm…_

"The Ministry Act stipulates the binding agreement be renewed once every week. It should give you enough time to… settle down."

"Right."

"You will need to be at my office at ten a week from now. Much _unsavoury _as the situation is, it must be borne and I hope to _not remind_ you of the same." His tone had a hint of derision in it and she gritted her teeth in response. His turn on the word _'unsavoury'_ was a mockery to her willing response to him on their wedding night. Perhaps he had seen the annoyance in her face and was obliquely reminding her of the fact that she had enjoyed it.

_It… it had been far from unsavoury. _

But something else caused her puzzlement and she looked into his black eyes once more, suppressing the irritation she felt.

"Does… do you mean I can stay in the Gryffindor Tower?"

_Fuck._

Even _she_ could hear the _pathetic hopefulness_ in her voice as she questioned him.

He stayed silent for a while and gave her a terse nod.

"It would be more convenient than any other alternative. The propriety of the relationship between a student and a teacher must be upheld to the furthest extent."

"Too late for that…" she snorted bitterly before she could think and saw his jaw tighten at her reply.

_Really, Hermione. Do you want to die or something? Saying things like that…_

_Well, it wouldn't be too bad an idea…_ A sly voice spoke in her mind before she stifled it completely and turned her face away from him. He said nothing. She heard him leave, the soft billow of his robes growing fainter every moment, announcing his retreat from her prison. _That was too melodramatic_, she admonished herself, she may not like the room but it was no prison. She was allowed to get out anytime she wanted. She flung away her sheets and donned the fresh sweatshirt quickly, moving onto her pants and brushing her wayward curls furiously as she looked around.

She supposed it was a good thing that she didn't have to stay in his quarters. _In some ways…_

_But_ she dreaded a few other things…

She wouldn't have been surrounded by people there, she could have hid…

She looked around the room for any items she may have missed, moved her neck around a bit to ease the tension in her shoulders and sat down on her trunk again. She still had some time till she had to be at the Hogwarts station.

_Some more time…_

* * *

She wiped the beads of perspiration that had coalesced on her neck and ran down her back as she dragged her trunk behind her. There were many faces in the crowd that were unknown to her. Many families herded around their young ones, bidding them tearful goodbyes and so forth. The cacophony of noises around her made her head dizzy as she searched for her friends. She saw a few students stare at her; they were the ones she had known during her time at Hogwarts. Most of the rest were busy in their humdrum affairs. She couldn't ascertain if their looks were hostile or simply curious but she did not like them either way.

_Did they already know about it?_

_Probably. _

She kept dragging her trunk with much effort till she reached the end of the train. Looking at the doorway, she suddenly realised something… She would never be able to lift it up without some help. She looked around; searching for some familiar face but it eluded her. She placed the trunk in an upright position, thinking that might help.

It didn't.

She got up the steps and stood in the doorway, trying to lift it up and had almost managed it when the weight became unwieldy for her and she let go. The trunk toppled down and landed a few feet away from her on the platform.

"_Really now_…" she muttered to herself as she hopped down the step to retrieve the fallen object when a voice stopped her.

"Do you need help?"

It didn't sound familiar.

She turned to find a very handsome boy leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He had the most beautiful face, high cheekbones beset with a pair of sparkling blue eyes, a straight nose and thin upturned lips. She shut her mouth that had fallen open as she took him in. She had never seen him before.

"No, it's quite alright," she mumbled and turned from him, lifting her trunk to a standing position once more and checking to see if it had cracks anywhere.

"I insist." She heard him say and suddenly, her trunk was levitated two feet above the ground as it moved gracefully past her to land in the train.

_Of course. _

_Why hadn't she used magic? _

_What the fuck was wrong with her?_

_How could she forget that…_

She huffed at herself mentally and looked at the unknown boy once more.

"I… um, thanks," she said as she climbed up the step and took hold of her trunk from him.

"The pleasure is all mine," the voice from beside her supplied. She noticed the boy was walking with her. "Ah… if I may, all the other compartments are full except this one."

He pulled open the door to a compartment and Hermione noticed there were only two trunks in there and no people. She looked back at the strange boy and shook her head politely.

"My friends are on this train as well. I'm sure they would have saved me a seat."

He curtsied with a slight inclination of his head at her words and she passed on. She found Harry sitting alone in a compartment and pushed the door open with some force. He seemed to have been surprised of out deep musings, for he almost jumped at the sound and moved to help her quickly as soon as he had recovered.

"I didn't know you were coming by the train."

She pushed the trunk under her seat and sat down with an audible plop.

"Why not?"

"I… that is, weren't you…" he stuttered a bit and fell silent. Hermione closed her eyes as she reclined her head against the backside of her seat. Her marriage, after an extended conversation and a bitter breakdown on her part two weeks ago, had become a territory that her friends avoided touching or mentioning explicitly unless necessary. She supposed that was one thing she could be grateful for. She would rather be silent than discuss the… _trauma. _

"Where are Ginny and Ron?"

"They didn't come; Bill's taken the Defence against the Dark Arts position this year so they figured it would be easier to leave with him. Apparition, of course," Harry said and shifted in his seat. Hermione opened one eye to look at him.

He seemed rather tired…

"What and skip this _wonderful _trip…?" she commented.

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently and looked out of the window.

_He seemed… distant. _

"Is everything alright with you and Ginny?"

Harry seemed to avert his eyes at the question. What could have happened in a day, she wondered.

They had seemed fine.

And in love.

_Love…_

"Yeah. Everything is fine."

She stared at his face for a long while.

"It's the law, isn't it?" She sighed and drew her arms closer to herself.

More silence marred by noises of the station followed.

"I… it's just." His shoulders sagged. "She's a year younger than me. She doesn't have to get married next year. And the chances of her being matched with me are rather slim. It's… we've had a few fights lately."

"Everything seemed fine yesterday," Hermione pointed out.

"It was. Well, for the time being, at least. But then… we saw you and…"

Hermione felt puzzled at his statement for a second and then something hit her.

Oh.

So _that _was the reason.

"And it hit you with the reality that this will happen to you too," she spoke bitterly. "I'm sure they'll make an exception for you."

"No, they won't. They didn't make one for you."

"I'm not important enough."

Harry's lips parted and she saw a flash of pain cross his eyes. She felt a little guilty at her last comment. _It wasn't meant to_… no, she hadn't meant to deliberately hurt him. He had tried his best.

He _had._

But the Minister had refused point blank to consider any requests for exemptions.

She supposed it was fair.

The laws should be same for everyone.

But just this time, fairness _hurt. _

"So… who do those two other trunks belong to?" she asked, trying to draw his attention away from the topic.

A futile effort, but she had to try.

"Neville and Luna. They'll be here soon," he answered and stared at the trees covering the horizon out of the window.

The train had started moving a while ago and there was very less movement in the corridor outside. The silence between the two of them was comfortable. She did not asking him why he hadn't chosen to go with Ron and Ginny. He did not ask her why she had chosen to board the train.

_It was the right kind of silence. _

_Both of them had all the answers._

The compartment door opened once more after ten minutes and Neville stumbled in with Luna following behind him. Her pearly white hair shone with an eerie light and Hermione suspected it was the distinct blue headband she wore that gave her hair such a… _discerning effect._ Apart from that oddity, she seemed normal.

"Oh. Hi, Hermione," Neville mumbled as soon as he saw her and a flicker of apprehension seemed to cross his face as he sat down beside Harry, not meeting her eyes. Luna sat down beside her and gave her a wide smile, patting her hand and looking… charmed in general.

Hermione wished she wasn't so serene all the time.

"It's nice to see you, Hermione," she spoke lightly and drew out a magazine from her bag. Hermione gave her a small smile in return and her eyes fell upon Neville who seemed to be distinctly uncomfortable.

He fidgeted in his seat.

A little more than usual.

"So you've heard then," she said.

"I… There was an announcement in the paper." He gave her an apologetic smile, as if he were the cause of her misfortunes.

The grating sound of the moving train was getting on her nerves.

"I see."

She hadn't known about that. Perhaps it was customary in the wizarding world to announce matrimonial alliances like it had been in the Muggle world a long time ago. If that was true, then everyone would know about it.

_Everyone. _

Not that that was a fact they could have hid.

Silence fell between the four of them. Hermione grabbed a book out of her bag and concentrated on learning a few advanced spells to keep out the worry, the paranoia, the despair…

* * *

She concentrated on her Transfiguration book, not really interested in the goings on around her. Harry and Ron were seated on her either side with Ginny settled next to Harry. The Sorting Ceremony was in procession. In addition to the First Years, there were quite a few older students who had availed of the Eighth year program being offered at Hogwarts. They were students from different countries; most of the prominent Wizarding schools had fallen under the shadow of Voldemort's rule and had been destroyed. The new pupils were probably the ones who had survived. She supposed it was a good thing to have a diversified class.

Her arrival at the school hadn't gone unnoticed. True, there had been quite a few new students, both old and young, so the stares and unfriendly glares had seemed mellowed and less prominent. But those who knew her and whom she knew in return had simply refused to acknowledge her. They had even thrown suspicious glances her way, not daring to cross the invisible line of civility quite yet. She had known it would be that way. It wasn't just that she was married to a professor, no; that particular incident could have been attributed to the unfortunate law. No, it was the fact that she was wed to a former Death Eater who had walked free. Contrary to reason, even the good people weren't forgiving when the injuries done to them had been irrevocable.

_So many of them had lost their families and friends in the war._ The death of a few culprits and the incarceration of the rest could never appeal to their sense of justice. No, memory always beckoned bitterness and ill will. They all needed someone to blame, however innocent they might have been, and for that reason alone, she believed, she had been on the receiving end of more than ordinary hostile looks. _It must be worse for him_, she thought, _to be condemned after exoneration, to live in the eternal shadow of guilt and association…_ In that particular moment, she felt a tiny twinge of pity for him and it caused her to glance absently at the Head Table.

Her eyes met his, brown against the rising darkness of black obsidian, and in a movement quick as lightning, she felt his penetrating gaze sting her.

She couldn't withstand them.

She looked away, wondering if he had been watching her… or perhaps, it was a mere coincidence…

_Yes, a coincidence._

She shifted her gaze to the small table on which a small hat rested as Fiona Kershwin, the new Transfiguration teacher, called out names. The line of students waiting to be sorted was thinning slowly and she was thankful for that at least. The rumbling in her stomach told her that it agreed too.

She was hungry.

"Thomas Stern," the pleasant female voice called out another name.

Hermione looked up from her book, without knowing why, and found that the boy who had moved forward in answer was actually the polite boy who had helped her back in the train.

"He's rather handsome, isn't he?" She heard Ginny say from across Harry.

"Yeah," she spoke absently. "He helped me with my trunk on the train."

A small smile crept upon her lips as she saw the hat indulge in its customary theatrics. It seemed to be taking an awfully long time in deciding what house to place him in.

"I suppose he's in the same year as us, though there have been a few students for admission to other years as well. They seemed to have thrown their doors open to almost everyone…"

"Yeah. Probably," she said just as the hat cried out _'Slytherin'._

She had to admit that she was a little disappointed.

"I would have thought he woulda been a good chap… helping you and all…" Ron clicked his tongue near her as he tapped the table with his knuckles.

She stopped.

"Why would you think otherwise?"

Her voice had an edge to it.

"Slytherin." He shrugged his shoulders

She raised her eyebrows at him. She could feel the beginnings of a storm within her.

"Might I remind you, _Ronald,_ that it is exactly this kind of _prejudice _that led to the last war," she snarled at him and put up her hand as her opened his mouth to argue. "No. I don't _fucking care_ what you think but before you go about creating the same divisions in your mind and others, you ought to remember that_ I_ lost my parents, _you_ lost your brother and Harry lost _everything_. Voldemort might have killed them, but it was prejudice that led him to inflict such atrocities on us and you would do well to remember that."

Her last words were a hiss and it magnified in the silence.

The area around her had fallen silent. She could feel the heated stares of the people around her but she did not budge from her place.

"The prejudice we have held for them has effectively isolated them over the centuries and it is no different from _Voldemort's_ anti-Muggleborn paranoia."

More silence.

More _murmurs. _

Harry and Ginny looked away as Ron finally stopped struggling to find words in the face of her sudden outburst and shrugged his shoulders once more. That infuriated her further but she had to make do with gnashing her teeth in response and ignoring him. She could do that now. The Sorting had ended and the feast had begun.

She piled her plate with bits of everything, willing to indulge in comfort eating so that she could learn to forget a little more.

_A little more…_

She sipped her pumpkin juice absently, not willing or daring to glance at any of the people seated beside her, and played with the mashed potatoes in her plate.

That was when she heard them.

"You know why she's defending _them_, don't you?" It was a whispered voice, barely reaching the threshold of her earshot but she heard it nevertheless. Perhaps she had been trying hard to listen to it.

_Perhaps she was._

She pursed her lips and glanced at Parvati who had spoken. She had directed her words to Lavender who threw her a mocking glance and raised her goblet to her.

_Calm down. _

She took in a deep breath closed her eyes.

_You can do this. _

* * *

Hermione was among the first ones to leave the Great Hall, leaving Harry and Ron eating at the table. She noticed the strange looks many of the students threw her way but she ignored them altogether and walked out with her head held high.

_Keep calm. _

She chanted the mantra over and over again in her mind.

But there was a worry gnawing at the back of her mind even as she tried to empty it.

Once the façade of polite hostility and dark glares was crossed, there would be open attacks.

_Better out than in I guess_, she thought as she sighed.

The corridors were empty, her footsteps echoed loudly as they fell upon the cold and hard stone floor. She did not seem to notice where she was going and collided against something as she turned a corner.

_What the hell!_

She fell on her back, a sharp stinging pain in her foot telling her that she had sprained her ankle.

"I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention to where I was going…" The voice sounded familiar. She looked up as she rubbed her elbows and shrugged the dust off her arms and her clothes.

It was the polite boy she had met on train.

Thomas…

He offered her his hand and she gaped at it for ten seconds before she took it.

"It's… It's alright. I guess I wasn't paying attention either," she muttered and gave him a reluctant smile.

"I'm Thomas," he said and offered her his hand once more, this time to shake it of course.

"Hermione."

He gave her a charming smile and nodded but did not let of her hand. It stung a bit from the fall; she supposed she had bruised her palms as well. She tugged at her hand a bit to draw it away from his grasp but he applied gentle pressure in her palms as her ran his fingers over the skin. Finally, he let go. She felt the tingling of something there and turned to see that there were no bruises anymore.

No stinging either.

_It had healed. _

"You… how…?" she asked him stupidly, only to see a small smirk cross his lips. She had seen it on Malfoy's face countless times before but this boy's smirk had… a youthful grace about it. It made him look more handsome.

"A small token of appreciation for the sacrifices you made in the last war," he murmured gently, his blue eyes an unnerving reminder of the dead Headmaster… "I must go. I'll see you around, _Hermione…_"

With that, he inclined his head once more and left to pursue his path in the opposite direction. Hermione ran her fingers over her palm in puzzlement.

It was wandless magic he had performed.

_Subtle and sure. _

How curious.

Even she, with all her excellent capabilities, could not perform it.

_How very curious indeed…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

Whispers followed Hermione from the moment she woke up the next day. A few of them were generous, pitying her for marrying a former Death Eater. But these compassionate people were too few. Most threw hostile looks her way and turned their noses at her. It was only to be expected. No matter his role in the war, her so called _husband_ was loathed equally by both sides. And now, she was a part of it too.

They did not dare voice their acrimony too strongly though. Not yet, anyway. But she noticed how Padma cringed from sitting with her in the Charms class and how Seamus wouldn't pass her the guinea pig they were supposed to be sharing for Transfiguration. Harry was conspicuously absent from the morning classes. The breakfast had been a terrible ordeal as well. She enjoyed the light banter that went on between Harry and Ginny and the horrible, sloshing sounds Ron made while eating his soup and how Neville was keen on telling everyone that he was dating Luna. But she couldn't ignore the animosity so many people shared against her in her own house. Fisher, a young third year, accidentally knocked over Hermione's jug of pumpkin juice into her lap. She couldn't tell if it was genuinely an accident or not and so she had refrained from lashing out at her.

To make the matters worse, she felt like she would be coming up with a headache. She couldn't get much sleep the previous night.

_Perhaps I should eat in the kitchens_, she thought as she exited the classroom. It was early for lunch but she supposed it would be worth escaping the offensive mutterings to make a trip down there. At least she would have some peace. With that thought in mind, she trudged down toward the well known path at the end of which lay the hidden doorway to the castle's kitchens. She was greeted enthusiastically by the elves when she entered, as was customary with them. She had given up on their emancipation a long time ago.

"Could I please have something to eat?" She looked over their heads bobbing in affirmation and located the empty corner of the kitchens where a few tables were laid. Half of it was hidden by the tall shelves containing Gods knew what, but she gathered the tray in which the elves had piled up ridiculous amounts of food and sauntered over to them. She was surprised to find that she wasn't alone there.

_Malfoy_ was there.

Funny, she hadn't seen him at the feast. But she hadn't _really_ looked.

She eyed him in apprehension and sat down at a table as far away from him as she could. They weren't cutthroat enemies anymore, but it wasn't like they were friends.

He raised an elegant eyebrow when her eyes met his but kept quiet, eating in silence.

"Congratulations on your wedding," he said after ten minutes of silence wherein each ate their portions. Hermione's jaw tightened and she shot him a withering glance. He didn't come up with a sarcastic remark over her lack of a reply though and left her alone.

A few more minutes of uncomfortable silence passed and she was done. She left the uneaten food in her plate on the table. She didn't looks back as she walked out of the kitchens, stuffing a few generously offered pastries into her pockets as she went.

* * *

She was _not_ looking forward to the Potions lesson that afternoon. Not only would she have to face _him_, however inevitable it was, she knew that she'd be subjected to hostile scrutiny of her classmates. She spent the lunch hour in the library, keeping her thoughts regarding him and her marriage at bay. She managed to distract herself quite well and was surprised to notice that the time had passed quite pleasantly for her whilst she sat reading a huge tome under her nose. _Some habits die hard. _

"Yeah, that's her." She heard a whisper behind her as she got up from her customary place and moved to replace the book in its shelf. She didn't turn. There was no need. The girls were being rather conspicuous and staring at her unashamedly.

"She married _him._ Fancy that. And she's still in school, so she can't possibly be subject to the Marriage Law. Can you believe it, someone actually stooping so _low_ as to…" Hermione didn't hear the rest of their sentence. She turned abruptly and walked out, her chin raised in defiance as she passed the silly girls.

Of course.

_How had she missed that?_

_No one really knew of it, did they?_

Her use of Time-turner wasn't publicised. Neville had said that there had been an announcement in the paper and she had naturally assumed it would mention the bloody Law. If it did not, then everyone must think… that she was… that she did it _willingly. _

She felt her throat choke up and clenched her fists as she trod the well known way down to dungeons. She was running late. She only just managed to reach the classroom and noticed that the entire class had already settled down. The Professor did not look up as she entered and searched for a place to seat herself. To her dismay, she noticed that her friends were already paired up. Harry sat with Ginny, while Ron was with… _Lavender._ The girl threw Hermione a cruel smirk that was strangely reminiscent of the previous night.

Finally, she noticed the empty place by Malfoy and, cursing the fates in her mind, went to occupy it. He shifted to make some space for her and she was surprised at his action. But then again, he was almost a social pariah, what with his father languishing in Azkaban and his mother a nervous wreck at the ancestral home no one would visit anymore. She lit the fire under her cauldron and turned her face towards the head of the class to listen to the lecture.

"You have an hour to brew a basic stress relief potion," Snape drawled, turning his coal black eyes towards the upturned faces staring at him. "The instructions are on the board. There will be no need to speak."

She noticed the bored and indifferent expression on his face as he went back to his chair and occupied himself with the paper work. It was as if he was keen on avoiding her as much as she did. Well, she supposed it was a good thing they were in agreement about something at least.

"You get the ingredients while I prepare the base," she said to Malfoy. Getting the ingredients would involve walking to his table to get a few drops of Hellebore and she did not want to be in any sort of proximity to him. She thought Malfoy would refuse. Her sentence had sounded more like a command. But surprisingly, he didn't. She heard the faint screech of his chair as he went. She heated the water and Fenugreek base to the required temperature and opened her potions copy once more.

Meanwhile, Malfoy had returned. They assumed their duties silently, chopping, dicing and squeezing the ingredients to requisite amounts. Uncomfortable as it was working with him, Hermione found that she could concentrate easily without her friends to distract her. Also, Malfoy wasn't trying to annoy her with any offensive remarks and she thought that she could make her peace with that.

Soon, they were in the last stage of their potion and she was about to put in some crushed beetles when the glass jar resting on her table swivelled and landed on the floor with a crash.

The attention of the entire class was fixed upon her.

She emptied the crushed beetles into the cauldron without delay. Whatever punishment awaited her, she wasn't going to lose a grade for her work as well.

"Clean it up."

She heard _him_ say from across the room. A startled gasp sounded from her right.

_Lavender. _

"What? No detention?" she asked loudly.

Hermione shot her a look of deepest disgust but in all fairness, she was quite amazed that he hadn't pronounced a death sentence on her for the mistake. The jar contained a large supply of rather expensive spleen and _nobody_ ever got away with destroying stuff in his class. She vanished the mess and repaired the jar as the class waited with bated breath.

Hermione noticed a slight smile curl up on the sides of Malfoy's lips and she wondered what it was that amused him.

"Is there a problem, Miss _Brown_?" Snape got up from his seat and stalked over to where Lavender sat. Hermione wondered what had infused so much spirit in the girl. She wouldn't usually dare cross a teacher. _Especially him._

"Well… If anyone else had broken that jar, you would have punished them," she stated boldly. Hermione found her eyebrow rise of its own accord.

"Your point being?" he drawled, fixing her with a distasteful glare and Hermoine noticed her flinch. _Why hadn't he assigned her a detention though?_ Probably trying to avoid as much contact with her as possible under the unsaid agreement they both seemed to have entered into.

"I don't think it's fair." Her voice sounded uncertain to Hermione's ears.

_Fair?_

_What part of any of her life was fair anymore? _

She really hated her.

_What did Ron see in her?_

A twisted smile crossed Snape's lips. It was humourless and did not reach his eyes. He drew out his wand in a blink and made the simmering potion resting on her desk vanish. Ron's mouth fell open at this but he had the sense to keep it shut. They had both lost the grade for the day.

"Detention, Miss Brown. If I ever hear you complain about the manner in which I run this class, you will be _very sorry_ indeed," he said silkily, his low voice travelling over the silent beholders. Lavender would have opened her inane mouth to blubber out something stupid again but Hermione saw Ron's warning grip on her wrist stop her. She heard Malfoy snort beside her once more.

The rest of the class threw her furtive looks before they went back to their potions. Most of the hour passed in silence and when it was finally time to leave, everyone hurried to get out. She, too, bottled up her potion and labelled the specimen with their names before handing it over to Malfoy. The class had been strange.

* * *

"Hello." She looked up from the Charms book she had been reading and found that boy, Thomas, staring down at her with a pleasant expression on his face.

"Hey," she replied, noting he looked tired as he sat down in the chair next to hers.

"It was an interesting lesson today, wasn't it? I liked the Transfiguration teacher," he said and drew out a few books from his backpack. Hermione nodded and returned to her reading. Thomas shared all her classes, it seemed. He, in addition to her, had been the only one to accomplish the spells to transfigure objects into organic but lifeless animals. His wand work had seemed quite sturdy too. She heard his quill scratch furiously as he made notes. She looked up a few minutes later and found that the squealing quill wasn't held in his hand. It was writing away blissfully, of its own accord, as Thomas read his text. He wasn't using his wand to direct his energies. Hermione looked curiously at the quill for a while before she coughed discreetly to draw his attention.

Thomas's expectant look met her gaze.

"How do you do that?" She pointed to the quill.

"Practice," he stated simply. She could discern a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "No, I mean the wandless magic."

He frowned at her and closed his book before turning to her. "Practice," he repeated.

That annoyed Hermione. She shook her head and put her books back in the bag. She had to go up to the tower anyway. Her friends would be waiting.

"No, wait." He caught her hand as soon as she stood up, ready to leave. She turned her head and her eyes went to his fingers. They were… long and spidery. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

She removed his hand from her wrist and nodded at him. He gathered his books as well and made to leave with her. He was a strange boy.

"It's simply a question of tweaking one's mental energies," he informed her as they exited the library doors. "I can teach you if you like."

Hermione looked up at him as he uttered the sentence. "Can you perform every spell without a wand?"

"Yes."

A chance to learn something useful was not a thing Hermione ever passed on. They weren't friends. She had only known him for two days. But he was polite enough. Moreover, she had been keen on delving into that particular aspect of magic for a long time now without success.

"What do you want in return?" she asked him, keeping pace with his longer strides. She was about a head shorter than him and hence she had to walk quicker in order to keep up.

"Return?"

"Yes. I wouldn't feel right about wasting your time without offering you something for it."

He stopped.

Hermione halted too.

As she looked into the depths of his silverine eyes, she felt something stir within her. He looked too intent. It puzzled her. Finally, after about a minute of staring, he smiled. It was a warm smile.

"How about… friendship?"

Hermione grinned back at him. "It's hardly fair."

"Not really. I don't have any friends. I'd like one."

Hermione held out her hand to him. "Deal," she said and pressed his hand.

They talked for a few minutes before bidding goodbye to eachother and going their separate ways.

* * *

It was later at night when she walked out of the tower that she felt this immensely suffocating, twisting feeling in her stomach. It was after curfew but she ventured out anyway. She needed to walk. She needed to… _forget. _

_How things had changed in a few days. _It wasn't right that she should be weighed down with the prospects of a bleak future with nothing to look forward to while her peers inside enjoyed. They had thrown a party. Lavender clung to Ron like vice. Hermione didn't really care but it touched something horrible in her mind. Harry and Ginny had disappeared somewhere upstairs. She was left all alone in a throng of crowd.

She walked silently and lit up a cigarette once more. She did know the adverse effects of smoking but she needed the relief badly.

"I thought your parents were dentists."

_Malfoy. _

His voice slithered into the cold air and reached her eardrums.

"What do you want?" she bit out as she turned to see where he had hidden in the shadows.

He smirked at her response. "No need to be hostile, Granger. You could ill afford to lose _friends._"

She blew out a puff of smoke into his face. "And why exactly is that any concern of yours?"

He shrugged and fixed her with a penetrating gaze. His eyes were silver too. Just a different shade.

"It isn't. I simply came to warn you."

"Warn me?"

He looked on both sides of the corridor and gave her a small nod of affirmation. He drew closer to her and Hermione's eyes rose at his incursion of her personal space. She stepped back a little and scowled at him.

"Stay _away_ from him, Granger. You don't know what might happen if you don't," he whispered in her ear and drew back quickly, giving her a small nod before he left. It was a moment before she recovered from astonishment at his pronouncement.

"_Malfoy!_" she called out after him. "What the _hell_ did you mean by that?"

He didn't stop and Hermione was too tired and skeptic to go after him.

_The idiot. _

But his words were strange. And in what _universe _did Malfoy start behaving civilly with _her?_

_Strange._

* * *

She scrubbed the day's dirt off herself furiously. It was nearly time for her to go back to bed if she wanted to be ready for her classes the next day. The lukewarm water filled with scented soaps ensnared her tired mind and she found the control over herself wavering.

_He had touched her._

_Intimately. _

_Everywhere. _

She rubbed the skin on her arm till it swelled up with redness.

It had only been a few days since that… _night_. It would happen again. She had no control over it. Over any of it.

She felt something warm trail down her cheek. _Was it water?_

It probably was.

She lowered herself into the tub, immersing her body in it deeply so that she would not see herself.

It would happen again. She did not have control over it. She clenched her fist and threw the shampoo bottle against the mirror that hung on the opposite wall. It crashed into the glass with a loud noise and she felt a few flakes land into the water around her.

_It wasn't fair. Any of it._

She doubted she could keep a hold over her nerver for a very long time.

Something's going to give.

_Help me_, she prayed to a personal God. He probably didn't hear her.

_How was she going to spend the rest of her life like a stranger to herself?_

* * *

Thanks to all who reviewed. Keep 'em comin...


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 5_**

* * *

"Hermione!" Harry's voice stopped her in her tracks. She was only just leaving the library. She had taken to spending most of her time in there. The common room was no longer a refuge. She didn't like the curious and hostile looks people threw her way.

He walked quickly to catch up with her. She gave him a small smile and turned her eyes towards his face in question.

"Just… wanted to talk to you," he said and pointed to the courtyard that lay just beyond the library premises. Hermione shrugged her shoulders and began to walk beside him. She hadn't been speaking to her friends much. Ron was too enamoured with Lavender to pay much attention to her and most of Harry's time was claimed by Ginny. Not that they didn't include her in their conversations and such but she preferred to stay away. She didn't like the pitying looks they threw her way at times when they believed she wasn't looking.

"So… what is it?" She placed her bag beside her on the stone bench and scooted back to sit comfortably. Harry followed suit.

"Why have you been avoiding us?" he asked in a strained voice, turning his emerald eyes towards her in accusation.

"I'm not," she lied. It wasn't too deliberate on her part but somewhere, unconsciously, she did cringe away from regular contact with her friends.

Harry sighed and his shoulders stooped. "You _are_. Look, I know you are. I'm sorry I've been distracted these days but don't think that I haven't noticed…"

Hermione lifted her eyebrows at him. "I have a lot of work to do."

Harry shook his head. "No. You _always_ find time for us. I… I know that Ron's absolutely clueless and Ginny and I are going through some problems but that doesn't mean we don't want you to spend time with us. I don't like it that you're cutting us out…"

Hermione leaned back and rested her head against the cold stone. He was right in some ways.

"Why does Lavender hate me so much?" she asked suddenly. Of all the people in her house, she was the most vocal in her criticism of her. Not that Hermione put up with it. No, she gave her back a fitting answer every time but most of the people around her agreed with Lavender.

It made things more difficult.

She stayed quiet during the Potions lessons though. It seemed that she had learned her lesson of not evoking Snape's ire.

_Foolish girl._

"Her brother was killed by them. The Death Eaters…" Harry muttered and looked away. "It has nothing to do with you, Hermione. _She's stupid_."

Somehow, Hermione didn't believe him. There was less conviction in his voice and more… _compulsion._

"Anyway, you're spending the afternoon with us. No choice about it." He crossed his arms on his chest and fixed her with an uncharacteristic glare.

Hermione sighed. She would have to miss her lesson with Thomas. But she supposed she needed to be with her friends too. _Oh well._

* * *

"So I said to her that…" Ron's voice was immediately muted out of Hermione's consciousness. They were sitting outside, near the lake. The weather was pleasant enough and she could say that the breath of fresh afternoon air was refreshing. _But the talks…._

_Mediocre. _

_Boring. _

_Stupid. _

Ron kept on blabbering about his conversations with Lavender and Harry and Ginny were rather… distant with each other. They kept their mouths shut for the most part. Hermione was enjoying the soft breeze on her skin though. She was glad of the book she had brought with herself, as well. Perusing it would keep her occupied. She turned the page and looked at Harry.

"All I'm saying is that we could _leave_," he muttered to Ginny in an undertone but she heard it. Ron probably didn't. She wondered why she had even _bothered_ to date him. It wasn't like they had anything in common.

Ginny pressed her lips and shot him a glare.

"_I don't want to leave!"_ she hissed, uprooting a few grass shoots from where she sat.

Hermione didn't say anything. She supposed these conflicts were inevitable, considering that Ginny was almost as headstrong as Harry was. She didn't really feel like interfering.

Ron finally seemed to notice this unusual display of animosity between the two.

"What are you going on about?"

Hermione sighed inwardly. _Clueless as always._

"You sister doesn't think that leaving this continent next year is a good idea if we want to stay together," Harry snapped at Ron.

"You're leaving?" Ron frowned. The expression on his face was almost comical. Hermione snorted inwardly.

"I want to. Merlin, Ron, can you imagine me being married to a stranger? It wouldn't be half as bad if I wasn't in love with Ginny." He ran his hand through his hair and Hermione felt something akin to pity take control of her. He reached for Ginny's hand and squeezed it. Ginny didn't reply. Her eyes, too, were overcome with emotion and Hermione could see that she loved him as much as he loved her. "I don't want to lose you…"

Hermione closed her eyes for a second.

_I can't lose you…_

There would never be anyone in her life who would say that.

"Harry's right, Ginny." She found herself saying. It was an alien voice. "If you really want to be together, I suggest you leave… I suppose the only thing you have to decide is whether you want to be with each other more than you want to live… here."

Harry gave her a grateful smile which she returned, trying her best to not show the desolation she felt with her friends.

This was the main reason why she didn't spend much time with them. _They were still…_

_And she wasn't…_

Silence had settled over the group by now and it was stifling. She shouldn't have come. She needed to leave.

As if the universe had been waiting for her to pronounce that cue, she caught sight of Thomas wandering by himself. She liked his company. So far, she had noticed that he was an exceptionally intelligent individual. He managed to do everything right. And _sometimes,_ she grudgingly conceded, he was better than her. She had had quite a few with him so far and had managed to learn more than she had in a year about wandless magic.

She waved to him.

All three of her friends craned their necks to see the person whom she had beckoned.

"Why are you waving to that Slytherin bloke?" Ron's tone was a bit… off. Harry didn't look much concerned and Ginny… she had this knowing smile on her face.

"Shut up, Ron. He's my friend and I thought I told you to not flaunt your brand of prejudice in front of me!" she hissed as Thomas walked to the group and greeted them politely.

"Hey," she returned, noticing how his eyes swept across the group in interest. "These are my friends, Harry, Ron and Ginny. And this is Thomas. _Also a friend_." She shot Ron a warning glare as he began to open his mouth.

Sometimes, he _really _got on her nerves.

Thomas didn't sit down though. He passed her a small smile.

"I've got something to show you, Hermione. Would you come?" His tone was polite and balanced. It conveyed to the listener the message that he would very much like them to join him but would not mind if they chose otherwise. Of course, Hermione had no intention of passing up on the offer. She _wanted _to leave.

"Sure," she replied and bade goodbye to her friends. A frown crossed Harry's face and Ron looked indignant but kept quiet. Ginny was looking at her too intently.

"So… what is it?" They were beginning to walk towards the lake. He was leading.

"You look upset," he remarked as they reached the edge. They were hidden from the castle's sight by now. The thick bushes that grew around the lake were aglow with autumn rush. Hermione averted her eyes. She didn't want to be reminded of…

"I'm fine."

He nodded, even though his eyes conveyed that he didn't believe her for a second. He began taking off his shoes near a large boulder.

"What are you doing?" she asked, wondering if he was going to swim. _Merlin, what if the thing he wanted to show her was the Giant Squid?_ Although it was old news to her, he was fairly new here and it would be sort of… _novel._

"I'll need to catch it before I can show it to you," he replied and folded his pants to his knees and took off his shirt as he climbed down into the water. Hermione looked on in amusement as he waded to some distance, looking for heaven knew what. After a minute, he vanished underwater.

"_Here_!" he shouted. His voice was rather muffled. And in his hands rested a… _good heavens, could it be? It was so rare… _

It was a flower. A purple Caseriye.

One that could heal almost all wounds, including deadly ones.

The only drawback was that it could not be removed from the water in which it grew. But she wanted to see it up close. _Hell, it would help her with her project._

"Come a little closer. I want to see it," she said loudly and waved her hand in an appropriate gesture so that he would understand what she was trying to say. He did understand. He swam towards her, the water making awful splashing noises as he neared the bank. But a few feet away from her, he stopped.

"Tell me why you're upset first and I'll let you hold it," he waved the flower in air, as if trying to bribe her for a response. She narrowed her eyes at him as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Fine, I'll _tell_ you. Now show it to me." If he was going to apply Slytherin tactics, she might as well match him up in it. His face was drenched and his hair looked sleek and shiny. Hermione couldn't help admiring how… surreal and beautiful he looked. _No. Don't follow that strand of thought. _

_Married,_ remember.

He seemed to nod and waded closer to her. Just a foot remained.

She offered him her hand so that he could hand over the flower. As long as she remained close to the water, the flower would stay alive. Her heart felt giddy at the anticipation of the knowledge she would have in her hands by observing it. As far as she remembered, _nobody_ in the last decade had managed to find one of these. For a brief moment, she wondered how Thomas had found it. He offered it to her but just as she was about to clamp her fingers around it, her withdrew it and caught her hand and tugged.

_**SPLASH!**_

She fell into the water.

"_What the…?"_ She was _wet._ And still bobbing up and down. Some water hit the side of her head.

"_Really,_ Thomas. Very mature," she said as she splashed some water back at him in return. Now that she was in the water anyway, she might as well have her revenge. _But where was that damn flower._? It wasn't in his hands anymore. "Where's the Caseriye?"

She eyed his form as it waded smoothly in the water and circled her. She _really _wanted to hit him now.

"I let it go," he told her and as soon as he said it, she felt his hand squirm through the water around them and pull at her. "Tell me why you're upset."

_The idiot. Who lets go of a Caseriye? _

_The thrice accursed…_

Ha, Ha…

He _tickled_ her.

Okay, _that _was crossing a line but she couldn't be angry between the short bouts of laughter that erupted from her. She kicked him in the shins but missed. She giggled again as his hands caught her foot and he turned over. She kicked at him again, not too strongly but she hoped it hurt.

_The idiot._

Suddenly, he vanished underneath and emerged a second later, closer to her. She could see the pores in his skin. The water dripping from his strong chest was too visible. He stared at her as she looked into his silver eyes. It was hypnotic.

Suddenly, he stroked her cheek and Hermione blinked. She pushed him away.

"I'm _married_, Thomas. Don't ever do that again," she muttered as she climbed out of water. He followed behind her but she paid no heed as she took off towards the castle.

* * *

"Hermione! _Wait_!" His voice followed her as she crossed the grounds. It was inappropriate but she supposed she was to blame for it as well. She quickened her footsteps as she reached the castle and crossed the hallway. She was still drenched from head to toe. She felt like she should probably take a bath.

And still, he followed. As she turned another corner, he caught her elbow and she came face to face with him.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't _know_ you were married," he said in an apologetic tone and Hermione, who was about to shrug him off and maybe send a few hexes his way, stopped.

"You didn't _know?_" She asked sceptically, wondering if he were lying. But it could be true. He wasn't from here. He shook his head.

" No. I'm sorry, okay. I wouldn't have… I didn't…" He sounded sincere and Hermione frowned at him.

Perhaps….

"What is going on here?"

Not him _now._ Hermione cursed under her breath. Standing in the middle of a corridor, covered in thick sheet of water and standing a little too close to each other… It was suspicious alright. Not that she thought he would care… but still…

"We were just… talking, Professor." She noticed how Thomas let go of her hand immediately and stood a respectful distance away from her. But there was no embarrassment in his eyes. _Perhaps he was telling the truth, after all_… She cringed as Snape's eyes travelled over her soaked state and she saw his lip curl in disapproval.

_Ha! As if she cared for his approval…_

_Still…_

The next day was their… She'd have to… _Oh, God…_

"And _this _seems like an appropriate place to _talk_, Mr. Stern?" he drawled, fixing her with a penetrating gaze. She didn't look into his eyes. No way was she going to let him into her head…

Thomas seemed unfazed though, by his remark, and she could see apology written all over his face. "Forgive us, Professor. It shall not happen again."

Hermione thought it was rather sly of him to admit to the mistake and entreat the Professor in such a manner. She, on the other hand, would _not_ tender an apology. There was _nothing_ in school rules about not standing in public corridors. Moreover, she had more grievances than petty interruptions against him and she would not apologise. _Huh._

Snape scowled at the two of them for a long while. "Twenty points from Slytherin, Mr Stern for… _besmirching_ the corridor," he spoke and turned, leaving as he had come. She looked at Thomas, intrigued. It wasn't that she minded points being docked off. No, it was the fact that Snape had passed on another chance to deduct points from her. It wasn't _all _Gryffindors, she knew. He took points from Gryffindors as he had done ever since she was a first year in the school. He just… didn't take them from her anymore… or _punish_ her for that matter.

"It's fine, Thomas," she cut across him as he opened his mouth. She didn't know if he were going to discuss their previous situation or if it was something else, but it didn't really matter. "I understand that you didn't know. Just… don't do it again."

* * *

The end of the week came too quickly for her liking and before she knew it, it was the day for… She swallowed the lump in her throat.

She was seated in a garden that overlooked the grounds. She didn't want to go back to the Gryffindor Tower after dinner. The apprehensive anticipation of what was to ensue later kept her from talking much. She even refused to spend time with Thomas, _informative_ as his lessons were. She really didn't want to. _Not that day. _

She fingered the bottled of crimson coloured liquid in her hands as something painful settled in her chest. It wasn't fair. She didn't want to go there. She felt so dirty and tainted… but the fact remained that she had enjoyed it the first time. Her _only _time…

She felt tears brim her brown eyes and wished that all of this was a nightmare. It had to be. There was no other possible rational explanation for it. In no sane world would…

_Stop it, Hermione. Let it go._

_Let it go…_

She left the seat and walked through dark hallways into the dungeons. It was quiet. No one seemed to be about. There was this air of lurking, festering watchfulness about but she shrugged it off as mere nerves.

_Nerves. _

_As if…_

Her knock on his door was tentative, almost _timid _and she stood outside, praying that he wouldn't call her in. It was the last, flimsy straw of hope she possessed. But he _did _answer. _And in affirmative. _

He didn't look at her as she entered and stood uncertain near the door way. _What was she supposed to do? Well, no… don't think about things and make them worse. _

Finally, after five minutes, he pushed the papers into one of his bottom drawers and stood up. As she watched, he began to unbutton his coat. _What?_

_No!_

She felt jitters crawl up her legs and she took a step back.

"_I'm not doing it here!"_ she breathed out, not meeting his eyes. Actually, she didn't want to do it _anywhere _but seeing as _that _opportunity was no longer available to her, she was most certainly not doing it… _there_.

His hands stopped. "Why not? I have more pressing matters to attend to and it would be best if we got this over with as quickly as possible."

She felt tears sting her eyes. _No, she wouldn't let him see them. Not him._

"I… I cant." She shook her head. "It's… it's so _degrading_. I… won't. Not here."

She hugged herself. She didn't think she was coherent about it and most of her reasons were rather laughable but she was overcome with this terrible fear. _Not here. _

_Anywhere but here._

"_Degrading_, Miss Granger? I must admit that the thought never crossed my mind, especially not after… _yesterday_," he sneered at her and Hermione was confused for a second about the reference he had made. _What did he mean?_

Yesterday…

Thomas.

_Oh._

She turned her hooded eyebrows towards him, wondering why he mentioned the incident. It wasn't like he would have cared. He had made it amply clear that the marriage meant nothing to him. "We are just friends. There is nothing degrading about talking to one's friends," she replied and turned away her face. She wouldn't do it there. _Not in a million years. _

He scrutinised her face for a few seconds before her moved away from her, drawing his wand as he began to trace a few patterns in the wall immediately in front of them. The stones shifted into a narrow archway and Hermione's eyes widened.

_Oh._

_Well._

_Better than…_

_Maybe not…_

She stood there, staring into the dimply lit passage for the longest time when his sharp voice roused her from her… macabre thoughts. For a moment, she had wanted to be a part of the dark and fade…

"Well? What are you waiting for, girl? I haven't got all evening," he snapped at her and Hermione felt her jaw tighten at the remark. From the way he said it, one would think that she _wanted_ to be here. But she didn't say anything. It was better to stay quiet. She didn't trust her voice in this state. She walked through the dark alone. His footsteps had already faded into a distance. She heard the sharp creaking of a doorway. _It must be his… private quarters_, she thought. Another lump formed in her throat.

_She can't do this. _

_Shut up._

_She had to. There was no choice. _

_It hadn't been so bad the last time, had it?_

_Maybe she won't feel anything. _

_Maybe she would think of… _

_Whom? Whom would you think of, Hermione?_

_There is no one. _

Her legs shook as she entered the low ceilinged sitting room. To be honest, Hermione was amazed at the tastefulness with which the room had been decorated. It was covered in shades of purple and silver. It wasn't dark or damp…. _Or leaking_. It was a welcome change from his house at the Spinner's end. The furniture was soft and squishy; the windows were covered with dark but pretty curtains. There were quite a lot of books in there as well. She literally _devoured_ their titles and committed them to her memory in one glance, resolving to check them up in the library.

Snape's discreet cough roused her once more. He motioned towards another door that rested in a corner.

_Right. _

_This was it._ Her legs were weak but she pushed forward.

_To hell with it._ She was strong.

She pushed open the door and glanced around. The room was plain and painted in the same shades as the last one and yet it was elegant. The soft embroidery on the sheets that covered the bed was lovely. There was a wardrobe and two chairs that rested against a bookcase. He hadn't followed her.

She closed her eyes.

She knew why he hadn't followed.

It would be easier if he wasn't in the room while she took off her clothes.

_Right._ She could do this. She ran her hand over the silk sheets. They were silver too. She sat down on one corner and fixed her gaze on the book case. She began to read the many titles that were stuffed into it as she unbuttoned her shirt.

'_Magical Theory: A Beginner's Guide',_ she read as she slipped the cotton cloth over her head and covered her upper half with a blanket.

'_The Realm of Unseen'…_ She had never read that, she thought as she took off her skirt and slipped into the bed. She'd have to check it out.

'_The Elixir', 'The Sensory Death', 'A Day in the Dark'…._ She stopped as she heard the distinct click break her mental tirade.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat. She clutched at the fabric under her body.

Only her head peeped from the overlarge blanket and she followed his silent movements. He did not say anything and she wished… _almost_ wished that he would have uttered _something._ It wouldn't make things better; on the contrary, it might make things worse but she would've preferred something more than that thick silence that engulfed her existence. She closed her eyes as he got into the bed and she felt the depression of his weight in the mattress below them.

The moment he touched her shoulder, she jumped. _She couldn't do this. _

_No, she couldn't do this. _

_There is no choice._ She felt her teeth bite deeply into the lower portion of her lips.

Relax.

When his hand touched her again, she felt it burn through her skin into her soul. He gently squeezed her shoulder and ran a few circles over it as he moved closer to her. She remembered the touch. _She remembered…_

Her breath became softer and easier as he pressed into her shoulders, her spine and her neck to relax her. The touch was light and feathery and as she kept her eyes closed, she could almost imagine…

He was quite close now and she felt the hair on her arms rise up in anticipation. Her body remembered him, even if she loathed what they were about to do. He touched her neck and his hand trailed down it, coming to rest on her chest. He stopped there for a moment and Hermione's eyes flew open of their own accord. She could see his torso resting on his side, reclined against her side as he caressed her skin. His dark eyes were unfathomable and yet…

She swallowed as he looked into her eyes. The fear had left her by now. Her body could not feel afraid… It _remembered._ Suddenly, his hand snake underneath her and yanked her closer to himself so that she was pressed into his chest. There were a few marks there… She began to count but lost track of it as he began to kiss her. He began to kiss her.

His hand caressed her back as he kissed the crook of her neck, trailing down thereon in a lazy motion as the fingers of his other hand intertwined in hers. She let out a small shudder of pleasure as she felt the heat build up within her. _How was it possible that he could bring such a reaction from within her with a mere touch and a kiss?_

He pressed deeper into her skin, kissing her everywhere as he began to remove the last shreds of fabric she possessed. For a moment she panicked and drew back but he held onto her, squeezing, ensnaring her skin in comforting motions and she felt herself give in. Her brain rebelled at her lack of fury or repulsion but she did not pay heed to it. Finally, his arms clamped down upon her wrists and he brought them above her swiftly and quickly so that she wouldn't have a chance to react. He positioned himself over her, his pale face loomed over hers and she wasn't afraid. One of his hands kept caressing her sides, flicking her taut buds so that she let out a moan of pleasure now and then. The other one held both her wrists firmly and she felt like she might bruise. He was making her wait.

She felt the desire burn into her slowly, it travelled from her belly to the lower portion of her legs and she felt like she would explode, burst open and dissolve into a thousand pieces if he didn't do something. _Why wouldn't he just do it already?_

But he seemed content with caressing and touching her.

Suddenly, she felt something press against her entrance. Her eyes closed of their own accord as she let out a petulant moan of anticipation. Closer… _Just a little more…_

"_Ouch!"_ she hissed through her teeth when the pain registered itself on her mind. He was inside her now but she kept her eyes squeezed shut. He halted and let go of her wrists. She grabbed hold of his back and involuntarily, felt herself ease. He didn't move. His hands slithered onto her back and he drew her closer, her breasts pressed tightly against his firm chest. She felt better. He rubbed her back a bit more.

And then, he began to move. While she let out gentle mews of pleasure and satisfaction, he was silent. His rhythm was slow and yet it seemed to sate her. For a while, she didn't notice his quietness. But after sometime, as the pressure began to build within her like blazing fire, her eyes shot open and she beheld his face. His eyes were closed and his face was drawn in intense concentration. It was something akin to peace. She swallowed. It disgusted her and pleased her at the same moment. She was disgusted and pleased with _herself_ at the same time. But now was not the time to think. She felt a muffled scream of pleasure leave herself as his thrusts grew harder. It was disconcerting, this feeling of helpless abandon, and she could do nothing to stop it.

She cried out in sheer agony of gratification as another completion wracked her petite form. She trembled from the intensity of her completion but more so because he was no longer silent. His stifled groan of approval was maddening and she felt the heat begin to build up within herself once more. He held onto her tightly, her shaking form no longer in a state to do pretty much anything.

She crested once more and gave in to passion. The waves crashed against her soul and she couldn't really reason as she closed her eyes and felt him.

She _felt_ him.

There was no salvation.

Ten minutes of sweet agonising love making later, when she was sure her brain had turned into something squishy and definitely befuddled, he lowered her into the bedspread and shifted sideways. It was over.

She tried to get her breathing under control. Her heart was beating so loudly that she felt like the entire world must've heard it.

"Why do I react like this to you?" she whispered, wondering if he would answer the question but the truth was that she needed the answer badly. She should've hated it but she didn't… Merlin, her brain was still dizzy from what he had done to her… His skin was burned into hers and she felt like this was some exquisite prison designed to torture her into madness…

He didn't answer. She drew the blankets up to her neck and turned her head towards him. His eyes were closed and his head rested against the wall. She could see sweat lining his brow from his earlier exertion. She could hear his heart beat too.

She looked away. Something akin to pain began to form within her chest. He wasn't going to answer her.

She pushed herself up, to a seating position and located her undergarments. Turning her back towards his, she put them on quickly and slid out of the bed with tears in her eyes. She found her jeans and shirt at the bottom and she struggled to put them on quickly.

As she left the room, she hoped that she'd be able to leave through the hidden door by herself.

She did not want to face him again at that particular moment.

More like _never_.

_Ah… but you did not think so a few minutes ago, did you?_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"Can I ask you something if you don't mind?"

Malfoy's voice drew Hermione out of her musings. She looked at him in surprise. She took a small sip of juice from her goblet and eyed him warily. Ever since her first day back at Hogwarts, she had spent mornings having breakfast down in the kitchens. Malfoy frequented the place quite often but they maintained their mutual silence. She hadn't asked him about the strange talk from a few weeks before. She didn't like him much anyway and figured that he had wanted to pull off some kind of joke on her or something. _Well, it hadn't worked._

She usually spent her lunch hours in the library and skipped her afternoon meals. Thomas usually joined her there and would accompany her to the kitchens in the evening. All in all, Hermione took very few meals in the Great Hall anymore.

"Why, what do you want?" she asked him warily. He had been decent enough these last few days but it was always prudent to be on watch when dealing with the likes of him.

Malfoy smirked at his cereal and laid down his spoon before he turned his eyes to her face.

"Why do you hang around with Stern so much instead of your own friends?"

The question surprised her. Sure, there was truth in his words but she hadn't expected him to have been so observant as to notice her growing friendship with Thomas. She narrowed her eyes at Malfoy and crossed her arms.

"You have no business asking such questions of me, Malfoy."

Malfoy examined her face with a blank expression for a moment before his eyes darkened. He pushed his chair backwards. The screeching sound it made on the floor was almost unbearable. He stood for a moment, at the opposite end of the table, and pursed his lips. "I'd be careful if I were you," he said and left, walking to the door quickly. Hermione frowned at his abrupt departure. His manner was strange and his words uncanny. _What the hell was he being so cryptic about?_

She gazed at the lustrous tiles on the kitchen floor. _He really didn't like Thomas, it seemed._ Moreover, most of the Slytherins had taken to him. That, in Hermione's opinion, wasn't always a good thing but they had to be given a chance. Thomas wasn't arrogant or mean and was well liked in almost all of the houses. Perhaps it was a good thing that the Slytherins had someone like him to look up to. And maybe _that_ was what had pissed Malfoy off. _The idiot. Couldn't bear to not be the centre of all the attention_, she guessed.

At least he didn't strut about anymore, though. That, in itself, was an improvement.

* * *

"So you are loath to pluck them?" Thomas asked her as he picked out the wild tulips. These flowers which grew around the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest were magically potent. They were quite pretty too. A soft whiff of breeze blew Hermione's hair into her eyes and she had to lay down her basket to move it. It was late afternoon and very few people were about. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and looked at Thomas.

"Well… They die, don't they?" she murmured distractedly, plucking a few herbs that she could use in her Potions project. "I mean as long as they are here, in the ground, their magical essence keeps them alive. They shed leaves, wither away only to bloom a while later. But if we pluck them, the plant dies and never rejuvenates. It is a peculiar property among these plants. They are quite different from the Muggle world."

Thomas mumbled a non-committal reply and Hermione found her attention wandering into far off things. Her fingers deftly picked any useful weeds, shrivelled plant leaves and such which she would most certainly use in her private research. She was currently busy with a very interesting project research on alleviating the effects of a traumatic Cruciatus curse coupled with PTSD. She had seen too many people around her suffering from the same and it was only natural that she was drawn to it. It may not help much. All her research might be for nothing but she felt like she would at least be trying to do something. _Doing was the key. Doing something._

"You know they prolong your control over your body's magic without a wand…" Thomas called out from a bit further and Hermoine looked up in interest. She eyed the innocent flowers that seemed to sway in the lull of autumn air that surrounded the castle.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"How?" She straightened up finally. She was done for the day and had signalled to Thomas for return. He stepped over to her quickly and she noticed that his pants' pockets were bulging with plants and flowers. He was just as bad, if not worse, in his thirst for knowledge. She found his offhand manner quite charming though.

"You crush the shrivelled leaves and spread them on your palms like this," he informed her as he pinched a few dried leaves and rubbed them over his palm. They had begun their journey back to the castle and were nearing the front door. "The magical essence of the flower has no time to escape and it latches onto the first magical thing in its presence which, in this case, happens to be me. Like attracts like and hence the magic in my blood flows to my hands with much more ease."

"Well, I guess that will have to wait for some other time then. I would have got some if only you had told me..." Hermione eyed the sad green and yellow plants in her basket and wished that she had got some of those wild tulips now. She really was stuck at their last lesson together with no prospects of moving forward whatsoeer. No matter how hard she tried, she simple couldn't manage to move the tiniest speck of dust without her wand. It was a sore spot in her side and she wished Thomas would stop teasing her about it.v

Thomas looked at her curiously as they climbed up the steps.

"Here." He pushed a few tulips into her unoccupied hand as they moved through the first corridor towards the empty classroom where they usually practiced their spells and such. "You'll need it for today's lesson anyway. And once you get the hang of things, you won't need a binding force to call forth your magic."

She closed her fingers around the cool stems and gave him a small smile as she pushed open the door. The scene inside made her skin crawl.

A cat hung upside down by its tail.

It was dead.

Blood oozed from what looked like fresh wounds and its face was contorted into an ugly mess. It was grotesque but Hermione felt a morbid fascination watching the ugly remnant of something that must have been alive not hours ago.

Life was… meaningless.

There were small puddles of blood here and there and there was this faint smell of something. It was all too familiar but she couldn't quite put her finger on it…

She almost jumped when Thomas squeezed her shoulder.

"We should tell someone. There's… I don't know who would've done this…" she whispered to him, as if a louder pitch might disturb the silent dead. A strong jet of electricity ran through her shoulder where Thomas had touched her and she looked at him in confusion. It felt almost like her robes had crinkled with… magic. He caught her by the hand and Hermione took a last look at the thick puddle of blood that had been made on the floor. There was something wrong with it but she couldn't figure out what it was.

Once the door closed behind them, she let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. She looked into Thomas's eyes. She was troubled.

"Professor Flitwick's office is the nearest. We should tell him about… I don't know what to call it," she said and started moving away from the classroom. It was eerily reminiscent of… things. A few seconds later, though, she realised that Thomas hadn't followed her. She halted and looked back.

"There's something I need to do, Hermione. Will you be fine going to Flitwick's office by yourself? It's no more than a prank, I'm sure." His face had this strange turn of uncertainty about it. She nodded to him absently and turned away, his footsteps echoing in her head as she turned the corner. There was something wrong. If it was a prank, then it was a cruel one and would most certainly warrant stern punishment.

_What was that strange smell though?_

She turned another corner and was about to run into someone when she caught herself. She was getting rather absent minded these days. She really had to stop.

It was him.

"You should watch your step, Miss Granger," the professor reprimanded and looked annoyed but she didn't pay much attention.

"Yes, well, I…" she began but caught herself. She need not go all the way up to Flitwick's office, after all. She could simply tell him. No matter what their personal issues were, he was still a teacher and hence bound to aid students in distress. "There is something you should see, Professor. It's down in one of the abandoned classrooms. I believe it's someone's idea of a cruel joke…"

Snape raised his eyebrow at her statement but she did not wait for a verbal response and turned away to lead. The corridors were still empty as melancholy autumn air travelled through their haunted domains and slithered around the two bound strangers. She stopped when they reached the door but did not open it and let him enter.

She felt nauseous this time.

Gone was the morbid curiosity. No, it couldn't possibly be even a cruel joke. It was positively _sick_. She watched as he bent down and swirled his wand over the spilled blood, muttering strange incantations under his breath and once more she was overcome with inferiority about the vastness of gap between the knowledge that they possessed.

It was the smell of Golden Pepper.

"Why would there be a smell of the most exotic magical herb in here?" she mumbled to herself, wrinkling her eyebrows in thought as she stared at the man in front of her. She didn't know why she stood there. She could have simply left.

He drew up after a few minutes and Hermione was alarmed to see the frozen stiffness in his features as soon as his eyes came to rest on hers. She couldn't read him. He stalked over to her in a quick motion and nudged her out of the door. She would have protested against being pushed out of the room but then… the alternative was to stay there with a dead cat. It was really rather unreasonable.

"I will escort you to the Gryffindor Tower," he spoke in a low voice as soon as the door shut behind them. Hermione frowned at him.

"Why? What is wrong?"

He didn't answer her but began to move. When he realised that she had not followed, he stopped for a second before pursing his lips and marched back to where she stood and caught her by the elbow. She yelped in surprise and bewilderment and for a moment, forgot to be stubborn about it as they walked through the corridor.

"You can't just drag me somewhere." Finally, she realised the high-handedness of his gesture and shook him off. "Besides, I have to go to the library." She crossed her arms and fixed him with a glare.

Severus's face darkened and Hermione thought that he _almost_ rolled his eyes.

"I'm not asking you to go, Miss Granger. I'm_ telling_ you and you _will_ comply with my wishes and under no circumstances are you to venture out of the Tower today." His silky voice was barely above an unknown whisper but she caught the chill radiating from its fringes. She looked at him in apprehension for a second and then, her shoulders sagged as she nodded mutely.

It was so difficult.

"Was it dark magic?" she asked as he resumed walking through the dimly lit, narrow corridors and she followed with a strange weariness draining her body. Her small basket still hung on her arm and she must have looked quite ridiculous carrying the silly thing. It had a variety of special herbs but that didn't draw attention away from the fact that she might just have been a silly girl gathering flowers for her romantic dreams. She snorted inwardly at the thought.

He didn't answer her query but put up one of his own. "What were you doing near the classroom at this time of the day? I don't believe you have any classes in that part of the castle."

"No, I was supposed to practice some spells with…" She bit her lip and didn't finish her sentence.

"Yes?"

They had almost reached the end of their little journey by now.

"Thomas." For some reason, she felt like she oughtn't to have uttered his name for she thought she saw his eyes narrow for the slightest second before his face turned blank again. But it was a good thing that they had reached the Tower. The Fat Lady eyed her and Severus with interest and Hermione glared at her before mentioning the password briskly.

"Well, I'll just… go then."

He nodded at her. She took it as a mark of dismissal and rolled her eyes as she turned her back to him and entered the door. She had read about Golden Pepper before but she couldn't recall where. She needed to find out.

* * *

No one discussed the incident in the castle. Hermione noticed that no one knew anything about it. It was most uncharacteristic of Hogwarts populace where information spread like wildfire. She kept her mouth shut too, not willing to indulge in… rumour-mongering. She had done her bit in telling a teacher and that was that but she was dying to know more about it. Maybe she'd ask Thomas if he knew something. Or Snape.

_Yeah, like he'd tell you…_

Everything was so strange. She sidled away from the company of her friends most of the times. She missed Harry at times but not so much that she'd willingly spend time with Ginny, Ron and Lavender for his sake alone.

_Lavender._

She was a sore spot in Hermione's side.

She was really getting on her nerves with all the backbiting business she indulged in and sometimes, Hermione really thought she might kill her for the fun of it. Hell, she imagined wringing her neck in most amusing ways before going to bed whilst Lavender whispered profanities to her friends in their dormitory.

"You seem lost. Is everything alright?" Thomas's voice interrupted another one of her succulent fantasies about drowning Lavender in her tea. Oh well. They were seated in the potions class and were quite early in arriving there. Not many had come in yet.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Did you find out about the incident yesterday?" She placed her book on the table and lit a fire under her cauldron. She had taken to sitting with him in most of her classes and it was just as well or she'd be pairing up with Malfoy.

"No. Did you inform a Professor?" He put the assorted variety of knives side by side and proceeded to clean the upper edge of his cauldron with a sterilised cloth.

"Yeah," she said, not desirous of relaying to him the details of the day. "I didn't realise it when you were there but the second time I went in, I swear I caught a whiff of Golden Pepper. I wonder what it was doing there…"

"You went in a second time?" He stopped working and diverted his complete attention towards her.

"Yes, well, I had to accompany the teacher. You literally abandoned me," she chided him but grew sober as a frown crossed his face. "So what do you think? I don't know if it was Dark Magic or something else but I cannot remember what exactly one uses Golden Pepper for. Do you?"

He shook his head and opened his book. "No. I think it was someone's idea of a very sick joke,'' he muttered as he turned the pages and looked straight into her eyes. "You shouldn't have had to see it the second time."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Nothing I haven't seen before, Thomas," she muttered wryly and opened her own textbook. A few more students had settled in by now but it would be some time before the class actually began. To her dismay, she noticed Ron enter with Lavender and she groaned as he chose a seat close to her. Poor Ron, his heart was in the right place but he was so clueless all the time… Not that Lavender was bright enough to take advantage of him but still…

"Hey, Mione." Hermione passed him a small smile in return for his greeting. He fumbled in his bag for his books while Lavender sat beside him with derision plastered across her face. Hermione ignored her and turned towards Thomas.

"We didn't finish with the lesson yesterday," she said as she drew out some parchment and placed her ink-bottles on the table.

"I'm at your disposal today." He gave her a mock bow and she let out an involuntary laugh at his antics.

"I'll dispose of you alright." She chuckled and was waiting for some witty remark to be thrown her way when she heard her.

"She's such a bitch. I don't know why you even _want_ to sit near her," Lavender hissed to Ron but it was loud enough for Hermione to hear.

Hermione's fists clenched in anger but Ron got there first. "She's my friend, Lavender. Don't abuse her." His voice was harsh and Hermione felt a small surge of pride swell within her. She had chosen her friends wisely.

But she wasn't going to let Lavender get away this time. For too long had she antagonised Hermione in innocent crowds.

"Is there a problem, Lav?" She tilted her head and filled her voice with saccharine sweetness.

Venom.

Lavender shot her a nasty look and gritted her teeth. "Not really. I was just pointing out to Ron about how much of a whore you've become since you returned. Just the ordinary information, you know…"

Rage flared within her and she saw Ron splutter in fury as well but she controlled it. Better get it over with in a controlled manner. But this time, Thomas beat her to it.

"You shouldn't use such words for Hermione, Lavender. I do not appreciate it in the least."

His tone was laced with venomous ice and Hermione felt a strange shudder run down her spine. All her rage of moments ago was forgotten as her eyes snapped to his face and she saw the inhuman control with which he kept his magic bound. His eyes had turned steel and Hermione would not have liked to be on the receiving end of their edge. She only just opened her mouth when Snape entered and everyone fell silent. She shot the girl a look of pure hatred before turning her back on her as the class started.

They were brewing moonshine today.

It was an easy potion but one that required prolonged labour.

She sighed at the anger she had been forced to keep bottled. She sneaked a few looks at Severus, wondering what went through his mind during these classes. She swallowed as she remembered the day. It was the same night again.

* * *

If she had found dealing with problems tough before, it was nothing compared to what she faced now. It was horrible, submitting to someone you barely knew over and over again. If it could have been purely physical, she would have understood it. Hell, she would have managed to do splendidly. But this… It was so strange, this craving she felt for the ghostly touch he lavished on her every time they… She felt this amazing bliss spread through her senses every time… It felt nice… It felt right…

And yet, it wasn't.

It was the most excruciating punishment anyone could have devised for slow death and she felt like she was dying. When covered by layers of blankets and general darkness, he made love to her like he really _cared_. And yet, afterwards, it was like she did not even exist. It was like there was a vacuum in her heart and she wanted to put someone, maybe him, in there but something stopped her. _Was it the fact that his distance had become more palpable through their invasive coupling?_

There was distance, no, there was a dark chasm of insurmountable depths and she felt lost.

It hurt.

It healed.

It hurt again.

She trembled as he ran a soft finger over her lips and kissed the side of her neck. She felt the same pool of warm fire spread through her limbs as she moaned in pleasure. It was involuntary but she still did it. She couldn't stop. What the hell was wrong with her?

Was it sex?

Did that happen to everyone?

If so, then why were boys the ones who chased after girls?

She shivered as his hand caressed her back. She had kept her eyes closed this time. She never imagined someone else but it was better. She could treat this heavenly pleasure as something abstract, like the magic that ran in her veins…

Her mouth opened in a gentle 'oh' as he wrapped her legs around himself and began to rock her back and forth in gentle motions. She whimpered in his chest, her slender arms holding his neck for support and sanity. Now and then, she let small mews and sighs of pleasure, when reason retreated into the dark abyss and sensation took over her existence. Her face was pressed deeply into his chest, her eyes closed as she listened to his masculine breath. She did not know what was happening to her. It was like she was two different people. One was here, in this darkness, the creature that broke apart in this strange man's arms as they made love, love as strangers and she relished the closeness they shared…

The other person was so different from the Hermione she had known as well. That person only remembered these shadowy nights during the daytime and shuddered in revulsion and longing. She hated herself. She hated the people around her. She felt like and alien in her own skin and craved to be rid of it. That Hermione's skin was raw with scratching, trying to rub the dirt off herself.

She was two people, bundled into one.

She tightened her arms around his neck as she felt the first orgasm slip through the folds of her womanhood. He held onto her, caressing her petite form softly as he slowed his pace in the hoped of prolonging her pleasure and moved sluggishly.

"Is this a dream?" she whispered as she felt his warm breath against her shoulder grow ragged and felt him reach to remove a few hairs from her face. He drew her closer to himself and pulled the blanket over both of them, silently as always, and resumed those agonising ministrations. He kissed her neck once more, then the spot between her shoulders and stroked her sides tenderly…

She opened her eyes this time and was met a strange expression on his face. Even here, in one of the most private moments in a person's life, he tried to keep control over his features. The only sign that he felt something akin to the maddening pleasure that throbbed and hummed through her body was the slight parting of his lips. His teeth were set against each other and she could sense barely repressed sharp intakes of breath each time he entered her.

With a low moan that she wouldn't have heard had she not been keeping unusually quiet in order to hear him, he stilled. She blinked as she took in his face, lined as it was with sweat once more. His arm was still wrapped around her waist and he didn't let go.

"It is no dream..." he murmured into her hair and pulled her against his chest, drifting off to sleep and leaving more of her questions unanswered.

The old Hermione was back, clawing, gagging this Hermione's throat with her sharp nails as she screamed at her.

She felt a small tear slide down her cheek as she gave in to the weariness and when she woke up next day, she believed she must have dreamed it all…


End file.
